I started to write this poem the morning after a long conversation with my mom. She found me crying in my room one evening and when she asked me why, I told her, between gasps of air, "Nazism." Perhaps in retrospect, this seems like a comically simple response, but at the time I was viscerally experiencing a particularly difficult news week. I heard reports of ICE's inhumane detention of children, the Ford government took power in Ontario, the not-a-Muslim-ban Muslim ban was upheld by the Supreme Court, and Orlando Brown was killed by police officers in Barrie, Ontario. Like other news junkies, I glued myself to Twitter, scanning articles to learn more details, only to become more upset. As a young, visibly Muslim woman, I am not afforded the privilege of being unaware of politics. My life as a Muslim-presenting woman is inherently politicized. Whenever I see someone who looks like me, someone who prays like me, in the news cycle, it is more often than not related to a devastating incident. The day after my crying session, I found a transcript VICE published of a conversation between a Guatemalan child and his mother in detention. It shocked me how loving the mother's words were, despite their horrific circumstances. Their interaction is heartbreaking and yet beautifully captures resilience. I knew I needed to find a way to show these small maternal moments—him and his mom, myself and my mom—in a poem.

Barâa Arar loves stories. She believes everyone has a narrative and we should all lend our ears to hear it. Barâa stumbled into spoken word poetry in 2010. Since then, she has performed individually and on a team, both locally and nationally. Barâa studies humanities at Carleton University, with a focus on art, politics, and resistance. She is a community organizer, writer, and the co-host of The Watering Hole podcast. You can find her at: www.livewellspoken.com.